


Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Insurgency

by Encreate



Category: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 19:12:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10520055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Encreate/pseuds/Encreate
Summary: In a war-torn world, pokémon struggle to survive as an unknown force drives them to the brink of extinction. Sanctuary, known as the Beacon of Hope, is the final bastion against the darkness. A pikachu will lead a revolt, risking everything he has to unshackle himself, control the city, and secure the future of all living things.





	

The pikachu wandered the darkened hall, shivering, his blue eyes glazed like the glistening layer of ice covering a dormant lake. The soft, rhythmic clunks against the wooden floor—clu-unk, clu-unk, clu-unk—portrayed a sense of dread, showing the emptiness that resonated within him. Looking around, he saw framed pictures of various pokémon lining the colorless walls—many of whom he once knew—reduced to frozen images behind a glass cage. The shadows that they cast seemed to spring to life, imitating creatures of the darkness. His fear fed off these shadows, making them huge and ravenous just like the ones that tore his partner apart. He shut his eyes tight, flailing his arms forward trying to combat the fictional beasts.

“Y-you... don't s-scare… m-me,” the pikachu stammered, trying to sound brave, his words unconvincing.

“Oh, but should be afraid, Lukan,” a high-pitched shriek echoed from the darkness.

Lukan’s blood ran cold, waves of fear rolling down his fur.

"No, you aren't real… I'm just dreaming; it's just a dream,” he said to himself over and over like a chant, eyes squeezed even tighter.

“Yes, this is, in fact, a dream,” the voice screeched, making Lukan cover his ears as he felt his eardrums beginning to burst. “However, that doesn't mean I'm not real, you naïve fool. You know the end is coming; you know what has to be done.” 

“No, I'll… fight… you,” Lukan said, standing his ground. “I won't... run away this time.”

“That's cute,” the voice cackled in a shrill, piercing voice. “And how are you going to battle me with your eyes closed, anyways? I know the answer: you're not going to. I smell your cowardice emanating through the air like an infested rodent.” It screeched again. “You're a disgrace to everyone living. Where was the bravery I expected from ‘the hero of the lower world’?”

Lukan felt the malevolent presence move forward, the sound of metal ground to a pulp and the smell of burnt flesh becoming more prominent with each passing second. The presence seemed to grow larger and larger, until he felt like he was flea standing before a mountain, the stench assaulting his nostrils and choking him dry, making him cling onto his life.

“It doesn't have to be like this, Lukan. You can join me in purifying and saving what's left your pathetic race.” the voice paused, muttering under its breath. “So what do you say: yes or no?”

The sensation of death started coiling around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. His mind began to go blank and scrambled. He knew that if he rejected this offer, he would die. But he was in a dream, right? But this, the emotions, the senses, the pain, it all felt too real. He wasn't ready to go yet and began to wheeze out his answer, “Y-yes… I accept…”

In an instant, the snake of death unraveled from his body, his eyes shooting open as he fell to his knees and gasped violently. After a few minutes of regaining his composure, he looked around and saw that a small cavern chamber replaced the dim hallway, a thick hazy pall coloring the room in a dirty hue. A hole was carved into the roof that opened up to the night sky, stars faintly shimmering in the twilight. He continued to look around; there was an indication that the presence had been here: a puddle of murky liquid before him on the cold, granite floor. 

Just then, he noticed something glimmer in the pool like the stars that still twinkled above; it was a framed picture like the ones from the hallway.

“What’s this?” Lukan tilted his head in curiosity, bending down to pick up the object. He inspected it carefully, wiping the mud off its surface until he could make out a poem behind the dark glass. 

Order

Four pokémon went on to become great heroes;  
they got together—fighting evil, bringing justice, so it goes.

One day, however, they confronted their fate;  
and their day of judgment was finally at hand.

Smoke burned the pure and the tame,  
Leaving the sinners and liars soon to be maimed.

One of the heroes saw the destruction evil caused;  
so he bargained a deal for everlasting peace,  
but his rage turned to flames, and his life so did cease.

Now only three lead the charge to evil's domain;  
atop Mew's ladder, corrupted by the sin and disdain.

They saw the face behind it all;  
they tried to shed light, reason with the dark, the three had the gall.  
So another offered for mercy at the heat of the battle;  
the toll was too great—he was split and then scrambled.

And then there were two, the best friends of all;  
surmounting the liars, they were stalwart and tall.

But one saw the kingdom in ruins they once served;  
he left to aid the sick and the dying;  
he gave up halfway; he laid on the ground crying.

Now only the king of nothing remained;  
he stood upon his pillars of sand, displeased and in pain.

He knew what his destiny would foretell,  
so he continued on his quest to free all living things.

The last of a dying breed he was to bestow;  
to shatter the iron and finally give tomorrow.

But if seeing means to lie,  
does saying the truth mean to end it?

~K. R. Mæ

“What have I done?” Lukan asked nobody. He shivered against the cold, the consequences of accepting the deal bounded in his mind. Taking one last glance at the poem, he saw that his day of judgment would come very soon. He threw it on the ground, shattering the frame and the glass before reaching up towards the opening; it was the biggest mistake he ever made.


End file.
